《Urban Pulse》 Chapter 1 The late summer heat hung thick and heavy over Atlanta, clinging to the skin like a damp, suffocating veil. The Greyhound bus wheezed to a halt at the station, releasing a mix of exhaust and eager passengers onto the cracked concrete. Among them were the Harper twins, their arrival a glaring anomaly amidst the swirling chaos. The decision for Lexi and Jordan to take the Greyhound to Atlanta had been a last-minute compromise, the result of yet another argument between their parents. When the financial scandal first broke, Vanessa had insisted on relocating immediately, convinced that putting distance between them and New York would soften the blow. But the twins, clinging to what little normalcy they had left, begged to stay behind and finish the school year. ¡°It¡¯s their freshman year,¡± Alexander had argued during one of their many late-night fights. ¡°They¡¯ve already lost enough, Vanessa. Let them have this.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve lost enough?¡± she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°They¡¯re not the ones whose friends whisper behind their backs at every charity gala!¡± ¡°No, they¡¯re the ones whose friends are dropping them like flies,¡± he said coldly. ¡°You think Lexi isn¡¯t noticing that Serena doesn¡¯t call as much? Or that Jordan hasn¡¯t mentioned Sophie in weeks? You think they¡¯re not affected?¡± In the end, they agreed to split the difference. Vanessa would go ahead to Atlanta, securing a house and settling in, while the twins would stay in New York with their aunt until the summer. But when summer came, Alexander¡¯s legal troubles kept him in Manhattan, and Vanessa¡¯s increasingly strained budget meant flying the twins to Atlanta was out of the question. ¡°Greyhound is perfectly fine,¡± Vanessa had said when the topic came up during one of their rare phone calls. ¡°Greyhound?¡± Lexi had exclaimed, her voice incredulous. ¡°Mom, poor people take Greyhound.¡± ¡°Well, congratulations, Lexi,¡± Vanessa had snapped. ¡°We¡¯re poor now.¡± The ride itself had been a lesson in humility. Lexi, who had never so much as stepped onto public transportation in New York, spent the entire trip clutching her designer purse as though it might be snatched from her at any moment. Jordan, always the quieter of the two, had leaned back in his seat, his headphones blocking out the chatter and chaos around them. But even he couldn¡¯t entirely tune out the reality of their situation: the stained seats, the flickering overhead lights, the faint smell of fast food and desperation. By the time they stepped off the bus in Atlanta, both siblings were emotionally drained, the reality of their new life sinking in with every step toward the car their mother had borrowed to pick them up. Alexandra ¡°Lexi¡± Harper, just sixteen but with the poise of someone twice her age, stepped down first. Her pristine designer sneakers, adorned with golden accents, made contact with the grimy ground, and she immediately recoiled, a grimace tugging at her glossed lips. She adjusted the oversized Dior sunglasses perched on her nose and let her gaze sweep across the unfamiliar cityscape. Atlanta was a cacophony of blaring horns, yelling street vendors, and clusters of people weaving in and out of the station''s labyrinth. It was nothing like the marble hallways and hushed luxury she¡¯d left behind. Behind her, Jordan Harper descended with a calculated nonchalance that barely masked his simmering frustration. At seventeen, he was the older of the two by a mere ten minutes, but his broad shoulders and stoic expression made him seem much older. His leather duffle bag, scuffed but still expensive, swung at his side. His sharp jaw tightened as he surveyed the scene. The noise, the crowd, the grittiness of it all¡ªit screamed beneath them. ¡°This¡­¡± Lexi began, her voice carrying the polished tone of an Upper East Side debutante, ¡°¡­is home now?¡± Her brow arched, perfectly sculpted from years of spa appointments and private stylists. Jordan didn¡¯t answer immediately, his silence louder than the surrounding commotion. He adjusted the strap of his bag, his knuckles whitening briefly. ¡°It¡¯s temporary,¡± he muttered, his tone clipped as he brushed past her. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Mom¡¯s waiting.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Their mother, Vanessa Harper, stood at the curb, waving with the same enthusiasm she used to reserve for photographers at Manhattan charity galas. But the woman standing there now was a pale echo of the former Vanessa Harper¡ªno designer gown, no string of pearls. She wore a faded sundress that might¡¯ve come from the discount rack at Target, and her honey-colored hair was pulled into a ponytail that looked more functional than fashionable. Her eyes were tired but hopeful, the kind of hope that bordered on desperation. ¡°You made it!¡± Vanessa called out, her smile wide but strained. She enveloped Lexi in a hug that lingered a second too long, as if trying to reassure herself that her daughter was really there. Lexi tolerated it but didn¡¯t reciprocate. Vanessa turned to Jordan, who stiffened slightly before allowing her to embrace him. ¡°The car¡¯s just around the corner,¡± Vanessa said, her voice breezy, as if pretending this was all part of some grand adventure rather than a humiliating fall from grace. The ¡°car¡± was a decade-old Honda Civic, its once-shiny black paint now dulled by sun and time. The back bumper bore a faint scratch, and the interior smelled faintly of synthetic pine air freshener and a vague undercurrent of despair. Jordan slid into the backseat without a word, his long legs cramped in the limited space, while Lexi hesitated for a moment before joining him. The ride to their new home was a jarring juxtaposition of past and present. Vanessa made an effort to keep the conversation light, filling the silence with comments about the weather and how nice their new neighbors were supposed to be. Neither twin responded much. Lexi stared out the window, her reflection flickering over the vibrant murals that adorned Atlanta¡¯s brick walls. She watched a group of kids playing basketball on a court with more cracks than concrete and food trucks lining the streets, their aromas battling the city¡¯s pungent heat. The city was alive¡ªraw, chaotic, and unapologetic. Nothing like the pristine order of New York. Jordan, on the other hand, stared at the seat in front of him, his jaw set in defiance. He couldn¡¯t stop replaying the chain of events that had led them here: their father¡¯s reckless investments, the media circus surrounding his legal troubles, the humiliation of being whispered about at every event they attended. He¡¯d spent the last six months dodging the pitying glances of his peers and the hushed whispers of their former friends. And now this¡ªAtlanta. ¡°This is it,¡± Vanessa announced as she turned into the driveway of their new home. Her voice was bright, but the cracks in her fa?ade were showing. Lexi leaned forward, her eyes widening in disbelief as she took in the sight. The house was a single-story structure that might¡¯ve been charming decades ago, but time and neglect had taken their toll. The paint was peeling in uneven patches, the front lawn was more weeds than grass, and the porch sagged slightly on one side. ¡°This is where we¡¯re living?¡± Lexi¡¯s voice was sharp, her words dripping with incredulity. ¡°Don¡¯t start, Lexi,¡± Vanessa said, her tone edged with weariness. Jordan didn¡¯t wait for the conversation to escalate. He opened the car door and slung his bag over his shoulder, heading toward the house without so much as a glance back. Lexi stepped out more slowly, shielding her eyes from the harsh sunlight as if it were the source of her disdain. She lingered by the car, her fingers brushing against the smooth leather of her Chanel tote. For the first time, she felt the weight of their situation¡ªnot just the loss of material things, but the unraveling of their identity. The Harper twins had been raised in a world where appearances were everything, where wealth wasn¡¯t just a comfort but a shield. Now, thrust into an urban setting where their privilege stuck out like a sore thumb, they weren¡¯t sure who they were anymore. ¡°Welcome home,¡± Vanessa said, trying to sound cheerful as she ushered them inside. But the house wasn¡¯t home¡ªit was a stranger, and the Harpers were trespassers in their own lives. The neighborhood was a far cry from the gated communities and posh brownstones of Manhattan¡¯s Upper East Side. Kids played on the cracked sidewalk, their laughter mingling with the occasional shout of someone calling them back inside. A small group of teenagers leaned against the side of a convenience store across the street, their clothes a mix of streetwear and thrifted styles. They glanced curiously at the Harpers¡¯ arrival, whispering amongst themselves as Lexi¡¯s golden hair caught the sunlight. The twins stood out immediately. Lexi¡¯s designer outfit¡ªa pale pink Gucci crop top and white jeans¡ªmight as well have been a neon sign advertising her outsider status. Jordan, dressed in a fitted Ralph Lauren polo and crisp khakis, looked no less out of place. Their polished, effortless beauty, with their golden hair and piercing blue eyes, only added to the contrast. Lexi couldn¡¯t help but feel their stares as she stepped out onto the front porch. She wanted to yell at them, tell them to mind their own business, but instead, she tightened her grip on the wrought iron railing and turned her head away. ¡°I hate it here already,¡± she murmured under her breath, though there was no one around to hear it. Chapter 2 The late summer heat pressed down relentlessly as Vanessa Harper opened the front door to their new home. The twins followed reluctantly, their designer luggage looking absurdly out of place against the scuffed linoleum floor and faintly yellowed walls. The house smelled faintly of mothballs and cheap lavender air freshener¡ªa desperate attempt to mask years of wear and tear. ¡°Don¡¯t track dirt inside,¡± Vanessa said automatically, her voice a hollow echo of the elegant authority she once carried in New York. She walked ahead, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that didn¡¯t match the casual home she now occupied. ¡°Your rooms are down the hall. Pick whichever one you want.¡± Lexi lingered in the doorway, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her long blonde hair, sleek and perfectly straightened that morning, now stuck to her neck in the humid air. She scanned the living room with a disapproving eye, noting the second-hand furniture and faded floral curtains that drooped on either side of a cracked window. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this,¡± she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the steady stream of emotions bubbling beneath her composed exterior. ¡°This¡­ this can¡¯t be our life now.¡± Jordan, who had dropped his duffle bag unceremoniously by the wall, leaned against the doorway with his arms folded. His blue eyes, striking and intense, carried the weight of everything he refused to say. ¡°It is our life now,¡± he replied flatly. ¡°Complaining isn¡¯t going to change it.¡± Lexi shot him a sharp glare. ¡°Well, forgive me if I¡¯m not as quick to adjust to all this.¡± She gestured around the room, her manicured hand sweeping across the peeling paint and outdated decor. ¡°I¡¯m allowed to be upset, Jordan. We lost everything.¡± ¡°Not everything,¡± he countered quietly. ¡°We still have each other. We still have Mom.¡± Lexi rolled her eyes but didn¡¯t argue. She turned on her heel, wheeling her luggage down the narrow hallway. The sound of her footsteps faded, leaving Jordan alone with his thoughts. For Jordan, the loss wasn¡¯t just financial. It was the collapse of everything he thought he knew about their family. Their father had been their hero¡ªa larger-than-life figure who commanded respect and admiration in every room he entered. But that image had shattered the moment the tabloids splashed his name across their headlines: ¡°FINANCIAL SCANDAL ROCKS HARPER EMPIRE.¡± The whispers and stares that followed were worse than the articles. Friends who once flocked to their lavish parties now avoided eye contact. His girlfriend of two years, Sophie, had broken things off the moment the trust fund rumors began.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Jordan shook the thought from his mind. He refused to let himself dwell on the betrayal. He had to be strong¡ªfor Lexi, for their mom. If he let the anger consume him, he knew he¡¯d never climb out of it.
Lexi¡¯s new room was tiny, with walls painted a faded shade of lavender that clashed horribly with the gold accents of her luggage. The closet, small and utilitarian, was a joke compared to the walk-in wardrobe she used to have. She sat on the edge of the twin-sized bed, her fingers brushing over the worn quilt. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away, determined not to cry. Her mind drifted to her old life¡ªher best friend Serena, their shopping trips to Fifth Avenue, the glamorous parties, the certainty that life would always be perfect. And then there was Mason, her boyfriend. At least, he had been until the scandal hit. He¡¯d stopped returning her calls, his texts growing shorter and colder until he finally ghosted her altogether. Meanwhile, Jordan stood in his room, which wasn¡¯t much bigger than Lexi¡¯s. His sharp eyes took in the scuffed hardwood floors and a single poster left behind by the previous tenant¡ªa faded image of a basketball team from years past. He leaned against the window, staring out at the street below. A group of kids were playing basketball at the end of the block, their movements quick and practiced. For a moment, Jordan felt a pang of envy. Their lives seemed simple, unburdened by the weight of expectations and failure.
The sound of the front door opening that evening sent a ripple of tension through the house. Vanessa had spent the afternoon cleaning the kitchen, trying to make the space feel like home, but even the smell of fresh-baked cookies couldn¡¯t mask her nerves. When Alexander Harper walked in, his presence filled the small space like a storm cloud. He was still tall and broad-shouldered, his once-dashing appearance now marred by exhaustion and shame. His suit was wrinkled, his tie loosened, and the dark circles under his eyes hinted at sleepless nights and endless battles with lawyers and creditors. ¡°Kids,¡± he said, his voice deep but strained. Lexi appeared in the doorway first, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Jordan followed, his expression unreadable. ¡°Dad,¡± Jordan said simply. There was a long, heavy silence. Alexander looked at them both, his eyes softening for a brief moment. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t what you¡¯re used to. I know¡­ I failed you.¡± His voice cracked slightly, and he quickly cleared his throat. Lexi wanted to scream at him, to demand how he could let this happen. But as she looked at the man in front of her, so broken and human, the words caught in her throat. ¡°Is this really our life now?¡± she asked, her voice small. Alexander sighed deeply. ¡°For now. But I¡¯ll fix it. I promise you, I¡¯ll fix it.¡± Jordan didn¡¯t reply. He just turned and walked back to his room, his footsteps heavy on the creaking floor. Chapter 3 The tension in the Harper household was palpable from the moment Alexander walked through the door that evening. Vanessa had been in the kitchen, her hands deep in soapy dishwater, when she heard the familiar creak of the front door. She stiffened instinctively, her lips tightening into a thin line as the sound of his footsteps filled the small house. ¡°Alex,¡± she called out, keeping her tone neutral. It was always better to gauge his mood before engaging. He appeared in the doorway, loosening his tie as he leaned heavily against the frame. His once-pristine navy suit now looked cheap in the harsh overhead light, the fabric crumpled from what must have been another grueling day at whatever temporary consulting job he¡¯d managed to scrape together. ¡°Vanessa,¡± he replied, his voice as tired as his appearance. He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen table, where a plate of cookies sat untouched. ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± ¡°I thought the kids could use a little comfort,¡± she said briskly, turning back to the dishes. ¡°Not that it matters. They barely touched them.¡± Alexander sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped into the room. ¡°Vanessa, I¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she interrupted sharply, spinning around to face him. Her hazel eyes, once so warm and inviting, now burned with frustration. ¡°Don¡¯t come in here with another half-hearted excuse. Do you even realize how hard this has been on them? On me?¡± His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. She threw the dishtowel onto the counter, her voice rising. ¡°We were your family, Alex! Your responsibility! And you gambled it all away on some get-rich-quick schemes and ¡®sure things.¡¯¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t gamble it away,¡± he shot back, his voice low but firm. ¡°I took risks. Risks that should have paid off, if not for¡ª¡± ¡°Spare me the Wall Street jargon,¡± she snapped. ¡°All I know is that we went from a penthouse on Fifth Avenue to this... this box in Atlanta. You¡¯ve humiliated us!¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He flinched at her words but quickly recovered. ¡°And you think I¡¯m not humiliated, Vanessa? Do you think I wanted this? To see my name dragged through the mud, to be laughed out of every boardroom in Manhattan?¡± ¡°Maybe if you had thought of us instead of your ego, we wouldn¡¯t be here!¡± The silence that followed was heavy, the kind that only years of unspoken resentment could create. Alexander finally broke it, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. ¡°I know I messed up. But I¡¯m trying, Vanessa. I¡¯m trying to fix it.¡± Her shoulders sagged as she let out a bitter laugh. ¡°Fix it? Like you fixed our marriage? Or like you fixed our reputation?¡± He didn¡¯t respond. He couldn¡¯t.
Vanessa Harper had always been the epitome of Upper East Side grace¡ªa socialite with a sharp wit and a closet full of couture. But in Atlanta, none of that mattered. Here, she was just another single mother trying to keep her family afloat. She had sold the last of her designer handbags months ago, using the money to pay for the modest rental house and keep the utilities on. She¡¯d even taken a part-time job at a local boutique, folding jeans and smiling politely at customers who had no idea she used to own a closet full of them. Every day felt like a battle to maintain some semblance of dignity, especially in front of her children. She hated that they had to see her like this¡ªstripped of her armor, struggling to make ends meet. But more than that, she hated Alexander for putting them in this position. Vanessa had planned a family dinner¡ªa chance to sit down together and try to rebuild what little connection they had left. But as the evening wore on, the tension between her and Alexander became impossible to ignore. ¡°Did you even bother to call the twins before they got here?¡± she asked, her voice low but sharp. ¡°I¡¯ve been a little busy trying to avoid jail time, Vanessa,¡± he replied, pouring himself a glass of water. ¡°And I¡¯ve been busy picking up the pieces of the mess you left behind!¡± Lexi and Jordan, sitting silently at the small dining table, exchanged glances. This wasn¡¯t new to them. Their parents¡¯ fights had been a regular occurrence even before the scandal. But now, the stakes were higher, and the wounds deeper. ¡°I¡¯m not hungry,¡± Lexi said abruptly, pushing her chair back. ¡°Me neither,¡± Jordan added, following his sister out of the room. As their footsteps faded down the hall, Vanessa sank into her chair, her head in her hands. Alexander sat across from her, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between them. For a moment, they were just two broken people, sitting in a broken home, trying to figure out how to fix something that might never be whole again. Chapter 4 Lexi Harper stood in the middle of her new bedroom, staring at the plain, violet-colored walls that practically screamed temporary. The room was small, barely big enough for her bed and a secondhand dresser. A single window overlooked the street, where a flickering streetlamp cast eerie shadows across the peeling paint of the neighboring houses. The air smelled faintly of dust and cheap cleaning supplies, a far cry from the lavender-scented candles her mother used to light in their Upper East Side penthouse. Her designer suitcase sat in the corner, the glossy leather already scuffed from the Greyhound ride. With a sigh, she unzipped it and began pulling out her clothes¡ªsoft cashmere sweaters, silk blouses, and jeans that cost more than most people¡¯s rent. She hung them neatly in the tiny closet, their crisp lines and rich fabrics looking painfully out of place against the flimsy wire hangers. The act of unpacking felt like a betrayal, like she was admitting that this place might actually be her home. She wanted to cry, to scream, to demand her old life back. But what good would it do? No amount of tears or tantrums would bring back the penthouse, the designer handbags, or the friends who had stopped returning her calls the moment the Harpers¡¯ scandal made headlines. Lexi sank onto the bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. She thought about Serena, her former best friend, who used to text her constantly about weekend plans and boys. Now, Serena¡¯s social media posts were filled with pictures of pool parties and rooftop brunches¡ªevents Lexi had once been the centerpiece of but was no longer invited to. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting her from her thoughts. She grabbed it eagerly, hoping for a message from one of her old friends. Instead, it was a notification from her mother¡¯s new group chat titled ¡°Harper Family Updates.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t forget¡ªfirst day at Southside High tomorrow!¡± Vanessa had typed, followed by three cheerful emojis. Lexi groaned and tossed the phone onto the bed. Southside High. Even the name sounded dreadful. She could already imagine the cafeteria filled with plastic trays and bad lighting, the classrooms with outdated textbooks and flickering fluorescent lights. Her stomach churned at the thought of walking into a school where she knew no one, where her perfectly curated New York wardrobe would stick out like a sore thumb. For the first time in her life, Lexi Harper wasn¡¯t sure how to make people like her. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily overhead. Tomorrow felt like a bad dream she couldn¡¯t wake up from.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Across the hall, Jordan was having a battle of his own. His new room was slightly bigger than Lexi¡¯s but just as unremarkable¡ªa beige box with a narrow closet and a scuffed wooden floor. A single lamp cast a dim glow over the room, highlighting the stacks of books and magazines he had yet to unpack. Jordan sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the cracked screen of his phone. His fingers hovered over Sophie¡¯s number, his thumb brushing against the call button. They hadn¡¯t spoken in weeks, not since the rumors about his family had spread through their old school like wildfire. He could still remember the pity in Sophie¡¯s eyes when she¡¯d last seen him¡ªthe way she¡¯d hesitated before saying, ¡°I think we should take a break.¡± She¡¯d claimed it wasn¡¯t because of the scandal, but Jordan wasn¡¯t naive. He knew her parents had probably forbidden her from seeing him, worried that his family¡¯s disgrace might tarnish their own reputation. With a frustrated sigh, he tossed the phone onto the bed and stood up. He began unpacking his duffle bag, pulling out a mix of clothes, sneakers, and a few framed photos. One photo caught his eye: a picture of him and Lexi at a gala from two years ago. They were dressed to the nines¡ªhim in a tailored tuxedo, her in a sparkling silver gown. Their smiles were bright, their world still intact. He set the photo on the nightstand and turned to the window. Pulling back the curtain, he gazed out at the street below. A group of teenagers was gathered near the corner, laughing and shouting as they passed around a basketball. Their clothes were a mix of streetwear and athletic gear, their voices carrying easily in the humid night air. Jordan felt a pang of unease. These kids weren¡¯t like the ones he¡¯d grown up with¡ªthe polished prep school crowd who drove Teslas and wore blazers with their school crests. He didn¡¯t know how to relate to them, didn¡¯t know if he even wanted to. Southside High loomed in his mind like a storm cloud. He¡¯d Googled the school earlier, scrolling through grainy photos of graffiti-covered lockers and a football team that hadn¡¯t won a game in years. He wasn¡¯t sure where he¡¯d fit in¡ªor if he¡¯d fit in at all. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. ¡°Come in,¡± he called, expecting Lexi. Instead, their father stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. ¡°You settling in?¡± Alexander asked, his voice awkward, as if he wasn¡¯t sure what to say. Jordan shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I guess.¡± Alexander hesitated before sitting down on the edge of the bed. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t easy for you. For any of us.¡± Jordan crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. ¡°You think?¡± Alexander winced at the sharpness in his son¡¯s tone but didn¡¯t argue. ¡°I¡¯m not proud of how things turned out, Jordan. But I¡¯m trying to make things right.¡± Jordan looked away, his jaw tightening. ¡°Yeah, well, maybe you should¡¯ve thought about that before you lost everything.¡± The words hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving. Alexander nodded slowly, accepting the rebuke. ¡°I deserve that,¡± he said quietly. ¡°But I want you to know I¡¯m proud of you. Of both of you. You¡¯re handling this better than I ever could have.¡± Jordan didn¡¯t respond. He wasn¡¯t sure he believed him.
Chapter 5 The sun was barely up when Lexi Harper sat cross-legged on her twin bed, her phone illuminating the dim room. She scrolled through Instagram, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the screen. The familiar faces of her old friends stared back at her, frozen in pictures of rooftop brunches, designer shopping sprees, and beach weekends in the Hamptons. There was Serena again, smiling wide in a group shot at a swanky New York lounge. The caption read, ¡°Squad goals ? Missed you, Lex!¡± But the tagged friends told a different story¡ªLexi wasn¡¯t included. Her chest tightened as she kept scrolling, her thumb hesitating over a photo of her ex-boyfriend, Drew. He was lounging poolside with a new girl, her hand possessively draped over his shoulder. The pang of jealousy and regret was immediate. She tossed her phone onto the bed with a frustrated groan and buried her face in her hands. Across the hall, Jordan was already dressed, sitting on the windowsill and watching the neighborhood come to life. Outside, a group of teens played basketball on a cracked court, their laughter echoing down the street. Their easy camaraderie felt foreign to him. For a moment, Jordan thought about Sophie¡ªher soft smile, her laugh that used to light up his world. He hadn¡¯t heard from her since he¡¯d left New York, and part of him wondered if she¡¯d moved on as quickly as Drew had. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. ¡°You two ready?¡± Vanessa called out from the hallway. Jordan stood, grabbing his backpack with a heavy sigh. ¡°Ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± he muttered.
The drive to Southside High was awkwardly quiet. Lexi sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, while Jordan slouched in the back, staring out the window. Vanessa did her best to fill the silence, chatting about how the school had ¡°a lot of character¡± and how this was a ¡°fresh start¡± for all of them. The second they pulled up to the school, Lexi¡¯s stomach dropped. Southside High was nothing like the elite private academies they¡¯d grown up attending. The building was old, its bricks weathered and graffiti etched into the metal lockers outside. ¡°Here we go,¡± Jordan mumbled as they stepped out of the car. Jordan stepped out of the car first, his blue eyes scanning the school¡¯s exterior. It was both intimidating and fascinating¡ªa far cry from the sleek, modern architecture of their old private school in Manhattan. ¡°Looks like something out of an old movie,¡± he muttered, adjusting the strap of his backpack. Lexi stepped out after him, her heels clicking on the uneven pavement. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the chipped paint on the double doors and the peeling metal railings. ¡°You mean a horror movie,¡± she quipped, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. Her designer blazer felt out of place here, like a diamond in a pawnshop. Lexi leaned against the car door, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she stared up at the imposing structure of Southside High. The building, a relic from another era, stood like a defiant monument to time and resilience. Its faded red brick facade bore decades of wear, with ivy creeping up one side as if nature itself was trying to reclaim it. The large arched windows were streaked with grime, and several panes had cracks that reflected the morning sunlight in jagged patterns. Above the grand stone staircase leading to the main entrance, the words Southside High School were carved into the limestone, their edges softened by decades of erosion. The parking lot buzzed with activity. Students loitered near the entrance, laughing and shouting to one another. A group of boys tossed a basketball back and forth, their shoes squeaking on the cracked asphalt. Others leaned against the railings, their backpacks slung low and their voices carrying over the chaos. It was loud, messy, and utterly unlike the controlled, polished environment they had left behind in New York.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Jordan¡¯s eyes lingered on the kids playing basketball, a pang of envy and longing rising in his chest. They seemed so at ease, so at home. He felt like an outsider looking in¡ªa feeling he hated but couldn¡¯t shake. ¡°Are they staring at us?¡± Lexi whispered, glancing at the groups clustered near the entrance. ¡°They¡¯re definitely staring,¡± Jordan replied, his voice low. And they were. Heads turned as the twins stepped away from the car, their polished appearances an instant magnet for attention. Lexi¡¯s blonde hair shone like sunlight against the dull backdrop of the school, and her outfit¡ªa tailored blazer, pleated skirt, and pristine white sneakers¡ªwas a glaring contrast to the casual, streetwise style of the other students. Jordan¡¯s quiet confidence, combined with his striking blue eyes and athletic build, made him just as noticeable. ¡°Deep breaths,¡± Vanessa said, forcing a smile as she leaned out of the driver¡¯s side window. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Just... be yourselves.¡± Lexi shot her a pointed look. ¡°You mean ¡®blend in,¡¯ right?¡± Vanessa sighed. ¡°Just go. You¡¯ll be late.¡± All it took was a few seconds for heads to turn. Lexi¡¯s blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, her tailored blazer and pleated skirt giving her an aura of privilege. Jordan, tall and broad-shouldered with piercing blue eyes, carried himself with quiet confidence despite the butterflies in his stomach. The murmurs started immediately. ¡°Who are they?¡± someone whispered. ¡°They look like they just walked out of a fashion magazine,¡± another added. Lexi tried to ignore the stares, her heels clicking against the pavement as she followed Jordan toward the front doors. Before they even reached the steps, an exuberant voice called out, ¡°Hold up, hold up! Who are you two?¡± Lexi and Jordan turned to see a girl striding toward them with undeniable energy. Keisha Williams was radiant in a neon cropped hoodie and ripped jeans, her box braids styled into a high ponytail. She radiated confidence, her smile infectious and her eyes sharp with curiosity. ¡°I¡¯m Keisha,¡± she said, sticking out a perfectly manicured hand toward Lexi. ¡°And y¡¯all must be the new kids everyone¡¯s been talking about.¡± Lexi hesitated, caught off guard by Keisha¡¯s boldness. ¡°Uh, yeah. I¡¯m Lexi, and this is my brother, Jordan.¡± Keisha¡¯s gaze flicked to Jordan, and her smile widened. ¡°Nice to meet you, Jordan.¡± She practically purred his name, her interest obvious. Jordan managed a polite smile. ¡°Nice to meet you too.¡± Keisha turned back to Lexi, giving her a quick once-over. ¡°Girl, that outfit is serious. You¡¯re giving me Upper East Side vibes.¡± Lexi¡¯s lips twitched into a hesitant smile. ¡°Good eye.¡± ¡°Mm-hmm,¡± Keisha said, folding her arms. ¡°We don¡¯t get many people like you around here. This is gonna be interesting.¡± Lexi couldn¡¯t tell if it was a compliment or a challenge. Before Lexi could respond, another voice chimed in. ¡°Keisha, don¡¯t scare them off before they¡¯ve even made it inside.¡± Lexi turned to see Carmen Rivera walking toward them, her caramel skin glowing in the morning sun. Carmen exuded effortless style, her dark waves cascading over her shoulders as she adjusted her leather jacket. ¡°Hi,¡± Carmen said, her voice smooth and self-assured. ¡°I¡¯m Carmen. You¡¯re Lexi, right?¡± Lexi nodded, taken aback by the girl¡¯s confidence. ¡°I like your blazer,¡± Carmen said, her tone neutral but her eyes assessing. ¡°Very... preppy.¡± Lexi forced a smile. ¡°Thanks. I like your jacket.¡± Carmen smirked, sensing the underlying tension. ¡°Thanks. Stick with me, and I¡¯ll show you the ropes.¡± Keisha raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the exchange. ¡°Oh, Lexi doesn¡¯t need you, Carmen. She¡¯s got me.¡± Lexi¡¯s stomach churned. It was her first day, and she was already caught between two strong personalities. Meanwhile, Carmen¡¯s attention shifted to Jordan. ¡°And you must be the brother,¡± she said, her smile softening. ¡°Welcome to Southside High.¡± Jordan nodded, grateful for her friendliness. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let Keisha get you in trouble,¡± Carmen teased, winking at him. Keisha rolled her eyes. ¡°Whatever. Come on, I¡¯ll show you where the office is,¡± she said, grabbing Lexi¡¯s arm. ¡°Jordan, you can tag along if you want.¡± As the twins followed Keisha and Carmen into the school, Lexi couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was walking into a battlefield. Chapter 6 The inside of Southside High was no less daunting. The main lobby stretched out before them, its high ceilings and wide corridors echoing with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and slamming lockers. The walls were a mix of faded paint and graffiti tags, the latter offering a glimpse into the personalities that roamed these halls. A trophy case near the entrance was filled with dusty awards and old team photos, relics of a more prosperous time for the school. The faint smell of mildew mingled with cheap cleaning supplies, and the fluorescent lights overhead flickered ominously in places. Students moved through the hallways in a steady stream, some shouting greetings to friends while others leaned against lockers in quiet conversations. Lexi tightened her grip on the strap of her designer handbag, her eyes darting around as she took in the scene. ¡°This place is... charming,¡± she said under her breath, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Jordan glanced at her, his expression neutral but his jaw tight. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡± Lexi arched a brow. ¡°Not that bad? It looks like it¡¯s one rainstorm away from collapsing.¡± Jordan didn¡¯t respond. Instead, his gaze was drawn to a faded mural on one of the walls. It depicted a phoenix rising from flames¡ªa symbol of resilience, no doubt¡ªbut the paint was chipped, and graffiti obscured parts of it. Keisha led the way with an exaggerated strut, clearly enjoying her self-appointed role as tour guide. ¡°Alright, rich kids, this is where it all starts¡ªthe main office,¡± she announced, pushing open a heavy wooden door that creaked on its hinges. The office was dimly lit, with tall windows partially covered by faded blinds. The walls were a dull beige, and old wooden paneling lined the lower half, giving the space a distinctly vintage feel. A large desk sat at the center of the room, cluttered with papers, a coffee-stained calendar, and an ancient computer that looked like it belonged in a museum. A bulletin board on one wall was filled with flyers for tutoring sessions, sports sign-ups, and handwritten announcements. Behind the desk sat Mrs. Cooper, a middle-aged woman with curly gray hair and reading glasses perched precariously on her nose. Her floral-print blouse looked as tired as she did, but her eyes were sharp, taking in every detail of the new arrivals as they walked in. Carmen smirked, leaning close to Lexi. ¡°Bet this is a little different from your last school¡¯s office, huh?¡± Lexi didn¡¯t respond, her attention on the old wooden counter separating the reception area from the rest of the office. The counter was scratched and worn, the varnish long faded from years of use. She glanced at Jordan, who seemed equally out of place, his tall frame stiff and his expression unreadable. ¡°Mrs. Cooper, these are the new kids,¡± Keisha said, gesturing toward the twins with a flourish. Mrs. Cooper peered at them over her glasses. ¡°Ah, the Harpers.¡± Her tone was brisk but not unkind. She reached for a stack of papers and pulled out two printed schedules. ¡°You¡¯re Jordan and Alexandra, right?¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Lexi,¡± Lexi corrected softly, forcing a polite smile. ¡°Right,¡± Mrs. Cooper said, handing them their schedules. ¡°Welcome to Southside High.¡± She paused, eyeing their designer clothes with a mixture of amusement and pity. ¡°It¡¯s... different here, but you¡¯ll get the hang of it.¡± Jordan took his schedule and glanced at it, his jaw tightening slightly. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Let me see,¡± Keisha said, snatching Lexi¡¯s schedule from her hands before she could protest. She scanned it quickly and grinned. ¡°Ooh, we¡¯ve got gym together. Lucky you.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Lexi muttered, rolling her eyes. ¡°Carmen, don¡¯t forget to introduce them to Principal Turner,¡± Mrs. Cooper said, nodding toward a door at the far end of the office. A brass plaque reading Principal¡¯s Office hung slightly askew on the door. Carmen sighed dramatically. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get this over with.¡± The twins followed Carmen to the door, which she knocked on before pushing open without waiting for a response. Principal Turner¡¯s office was a stark contrast to the rest of the school. While still old, it was meticulously organized. A large wooden desk sat at the center, polished to a shine, with neatly stacked papers and a nameplate that read Dr. Elaine Turner. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with binders, awards, and framed photographs of students from past decades. The room smelled faintly of lemon polish and coffee. Behind the desk sat Principal Turner, a woman in her late forties with sharp features and short-cropped hair. Her tailored blazer and no-nonsense expression immediately commanded respect. She looked up from her paperwork, her dark eyes landing on the twins with an appraising gaze. ¡°You must be the Harpers,¡± she said, standing and extending a hand. Her voice was firm but warm. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Jordan said, shaking her hand. ¡°Lexi,¡± Lexi said, shaking her hand as well, though her grip was noticeably less firm. Principal Turner gestured for them to sit in the two chairs opposite her desk. ¡°Welcome to Southside High. I thought it would be a good idea for us to have a quick chat before you start your day.¡± Lexi and Jordan exchanged a wary glance before sitting down. Carmen lingered by the door, her arms crossed. ¡°Southside High is... unique,¡± Principal Turner began, folding her hands on the desk. ¡°We¡¯re a community here, but we¡¯re also a reflection of the challenges our students face outside these walls. For many of them, school isn¡¯t just about academics¡ªit¡¯s about survival.¡± Lexi shifted uncomfortably in her chair. ¡°Survival?¡± Principal Turner nodded. ¡°Yes. This is not the Upper East Side. The students here come from all walks of life, and some of those walks are harder than you can imagine. You¡¯re going to stand out here, and not just because of your appearance.¡± Jordan frowned. ¡°We¡¯re not trying to stand out.¡± ¡°I understand that,¡± Principal Turner said gently. ¡°But it¡¯s inevitable. People are going to make assumptions about you¡ªabout who you are and what you represent. My advice? Prove them wrong. Show them that you¡¯re here to learn and to be part of this community.¡± Lexi crossed her legs, her posture defensive. ¡°And if they don¡¯t want us here?¡± Principal Turner smiled faintly. ¡°Then prove them wrong anyway.¡± She leaned back in her chair. ¡°I¡¯m here if you need anything. My door is always open, whether it¡¯s for academic concerns or... other challenges. Adjusting to a new environment isn¡¯t easy, but you¡¯re not alone.¡± Jordan nodded slowly. ¡°Thanks, Dr. Turner.¡± Lexi glanced at her brother, then back at Principal Turner. ¡°We¡¯ll try.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Principal Turner said, standing. ¡°Now, get to class. Mrs. Cooper will help you find your lockers.¡± As they left the office, Carmen fell into step beside Lexi. ¡°You guys might actually survive here,¡± she teased, a playful glint in her eye. Keisha was waiting for them back in the reception area, grinning like she¡¯d just won the lottery. ¡°Ready to face the jungle?¡± she asked. Lexi sighed. ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be.¡± Jordan adjusted his backpack, his eyes already scanning the hallway beyond. ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡± Chapter 7 As Lexi and Jordan stepped out of the main office, Keisha and Carmen led the way through the wide, echoing hallways of Southside High. The walls were lined with chipped lockers, colorful posters advertising student events, and bulletin boards layered with announcements for bake sales and tutoring sessions. The school¡¯s age was evident in the scuffed floors and worn wooden doors, but the energy within its halls was vibrant and undeniable. Students leaned against lockers, laughing and chatting, while others rushed past with books clutched tightly in their arms. Lexi glanced around, her eyes flicking over the groups of students with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. ¡°So... this is it?¡± she muttered, her voice low enough for only Jordan to hear. Jordan¡¯s eyes lingered on a group of kids laughing by a row of lockers, their streetwear starkly different from the designer threads he and Lexi wore. ¡°Yeah. This is it,¡± he replied, adjusting the strap of his backpack. ¡°Over here,¡± Keisha said cheerfully, leading them toward a set of lockers near the center of the hallway. ¡°These are yours. Lucky you¡ªthey¡¯re close to the main entrance and not too far from the cafeteria. Prime real estate, honey.¡± Carmen leaned against one of the lockers, her perfectly manicured nails tapping lightly on the metal. ¡°Not bad, right? You could¡¯ve ended up by the gym. Trust me, you don¡¯t want to smell sweat all day.¡± As Lexi fumbled with the combination lock, Carmen¡¯s attention drifted. Her eyes lit up as she spotted someone down the hall. ¡°Liam! Yo, Liam!¡± she called out, waving him over. Lexi and Jordan both turned to see a tall, mixed-race boy strolling toward them with an easy, confident gait. His curly hair was slightly messy in an effortless way, and he wore a black leather jacket over a vintage T-shirt. His piercing green eyes scanned the group as he approached, a crooked smile playing on his lips. ¡°What¡¯s up, Carmen?¡± Liam asked, his deep voice smooth and laid-back. ¡°This is Lexi and Jordan,¡± Carmen said, gesturing toward the twins. ¡°They¡¯re new here. Fresh imports from New York.¡± Liam raised an eyebrow, giving them an appraising look. ¡°New York, huh? That explains the vibes.¡± Lexi frowned slightly. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Relax, it¡¯s a compliment,¡± Liam said with a grin. ¡°You both look like you stepped out of a magazine ad. Trust me, that¡¯s rare around here.¡± Jordan, noticing the football letterman jacket slung casually over Liam¡¯s shoulder, nodded toward it. ¡°You play?¡± ¡°Quarterback,¡± Liam replied. ¡°Why? You interested in football?¡± Jordan shook his head. ¡°Not exactly. We¡¯re hockey players.¡± ¡°Hockey?¡± Liam repeated, his grin widening. ¡°Man, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met a hockey player in person. I thought y¡¯all only existed on ESPN.¡± Keisha laughed and nudged Liam. ¡°Don¡¯t be rude, Liam. Actually, we do have a hockey team now. It¡¯s new this year.¡± Lexi and Jordan exchanged surprised looks. ¡°Seriously?¡± Jordan asked. ¡°You guys have a team?¡± ¡°Yup,¡± Keisha confirmed, flipping her braids over her shoulder. ¡°Some local billionaire donated a state-of-the-art rink to the school last year. It¡¯s shiny, brand new, and probably the fanciest thing we¡¯ve got around here. The hockey team¡¯s still getting off the ground, though.¡± Carmen chimed in. ¡°Tryouts are coming up soon. We can take you to see the rink after school, if you want. And introduce you to Coach Howard.¡± ¡°That¡¯d be great,¡± Jordan said, a glimmer of hope flashing in his blue eyes. Before the conversation could go any further, two more students approached. One was a tall Black boy with an infectious smile and an easy swagger, and the other was a shorter, stockier Hispanic boy with a mischievous glint in his eye. ¡°Yo, Liam, who¡¯s the new crew?¡± the taller boy asked, eyeing Lexi and Jordan with interest. ¡°Dante, Marco¡ªmeet Lexi and Jordan,¡± Liam said. ¡°Fresh from New York.¡± Dante, the Black student, gave a low whistle. ¡°New York, huh? You two must be feeling some serious culture shock right about now.¡± Jordan smirked. ¡°You could say that.¡± Marco, the Hispanic boy, folded his arms and tilted his head. ¡°Wait, wait. Did I hear right? Y¡¯all play hockey?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Lexi said, her tone defensive. Marco snorted. ¡°Man, good luck with that. You¡¯re not exactly in Rangers territory anymore. This is the South. We play football, basketball, maybe a little baseball. But hockey? I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Jordan stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°It means you better be good,¡± Marco replied with a shrug. ¡°Nobody¡¯s expecting much from a hockey team down here.¡± ¡°Marco,¡± Keisha interjected, rolling her eyes. ¡°Stop being a hater. The team¡¯s brand new¡ªof course they¡¯re going to need good players. And who knows? Maybe these two are exactly what the team needs.¡± Lexi crossed her arms, her blue eyes glinting with determination. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll just have to prove it, then.¡± Dante chuckled, clapping Jordan on the shoulder. ¡°I like this one. Welcome to Southside High, man. And good luck.¡± As the group walked down the hall together, the cultural divide was clear. Lexi and Jordan¡¯s polished, Upper East Side confidence clashed with the laid-back, rough-around-the-edges vibe of their new classmates. But for the first time since they¡¯d arrived, they felt a spark of possibility. Maybe, just maybe, Atlanta wasn¡¯t going to be a total disaster after all. Chapter 8 Lexi stepped hesitantly into her first-period classroom, clutching her books tightly against her chest. The space was a far cry from the pristine, orderly classrooms of her private school in New York. The desks were mismatched and graffiti-covered, and a steady hum of chatter filled the room. Students lounged in their seats, some scrolling through their phones, others tossing crumpled papers at each other. The teacher, a middle-aged woman in a rumpled cardigan, barely glanced up as Lexi entered. Lexi¡¯s sharp blue eyes swept over the room, taking in every detail. Her designer outfit¡ªa crisp white blouse, tailored plaid skirt, and pristine sneakers¡ªseemed to glow under the flickering fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the casual hoodies, ripped jeans, and sneakers that everyone else wore. ¡°New girl alert,¡± someone whispered loudly, and a ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Lexi¡¯s cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin and made her way to an empty desk near the front. As she settled in, Dante sauntered into the room, his ever-present grin firmly in place. Spotting Lexi, he made a beeline for the desk behind her, plopping down with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°Well, well, well,¡± he drawled, leaning forward. ¡°Look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Manhattan herself.¡± Lexi shot him a withering glare. ¡°Do you mind?¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± Dante replied smoothly. ¡°But I gotta say, you¡¯re kinda killing the vibe. Sitting up front, all stiff and proper. You planning to take notes on how to survive Southside or something?¡± A few nearby students snickered, and Lexi¡¯s grip on her pen tightened. ¡°Maybe if you focused on your work instead of running your mouth, you¡¯d actually learn something.¡± Dante laughed, the sound rich and unbothered. ¡°Oh, she¡¯s got fire. I like that. You¡¯re gonna be fun to mess with.¡± Before Lexi could respond, another voice cut through the noise.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Yo, Dante, leave her alone.¡± Lexi turned to see a girl standing in the doorway, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and a hockey stick slung casually over her shoulder. She wore a Southside High hoodie and jeans, her stance relaxed but commanding. ¡°And who are you?¡± Lexi asked, her tone icy. ¡°Bianca,¡± the girl replied, her dark eyes sharp as they assessed Lexi. ¡°I¡¯m on the hockey team. Heard you play. Thought I¡¯d see what all the fuss is about.¡± Lexi raised an eyebrow. ¡°And?¡± Bianca smirked. ¡°And you better be good, or you¡¯re not gonna last five minutes on that ice.¡± The tension between them crackled, drawing the attention of the entire class. Dante leaned back in his chair, grinning like he¡¯d just won the lottery. ¡°Y¡¯all are gonna be fun to watch,¡± he said, shaking his head. Lexi turned back to her desk, fuming. She wasn¡¯t used to being challenged like this, and the chaos of the classroom was already grating on her nerves. But if there was one thing she hated, it was losing¡ªand she wasn¡¯t about to let anyone here see her crack.
Across the school, Jordan walked into his own first-period class, his gaze scanning the room for an empty seat. Unlike Lexi, he was less concerned with making a statement and more focused on figuring out where he fit in. ¡°Yo, over here!¡± Marco called, waving him over to an empty desk near the back. Jordan slid into the seat, nodding a silent thanks. Marco wasted no time, turning to him with a wide grin. ¡°So, New York, huh? Bet this place is a whole lot different.¡± ¡°You could say that,¡± Jordan replied, his tone neutral. Marco chuckled. ¡°Man, you¡¯re quiet. Bet you¡¯re the strong, silent type, huh? The girls love that.¡± Jordan gave him a faint smile, not entirely sure how to respond. ¡°So, what position do you play?" Jordan asked, changing the subject. "Wide receiver. But that¡¯s just for now. My real dream? Music. I¡¯m gonna be the next big thing in hip-hop. Got a whole mixtape in the works.¡± ¡°Sounds cool,¡± Jordan said, genuinely intrigued. ¡°It is,¡± Marco said confidently. ¡°You should come check out my set after school. A bunch of us hang out at this spot nearby¡ªThe Underground. It¡¯s chill, and I might even spit a few bars if the vibe¡¯s right.¡± Jordan hesitated. The idea of hanging out with a new crowd in a completely unfamiliar setting was daunting, but Marco¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious. ¡°Yeah, maybe,¡± he said finally. ¡°Cool,¡± Marco said, slapping Jordan on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re gonna fit in here, man. Trust me.¡± As the teacher called the class to order, Jordan found himself relaxing slightly. Marco¡¯s laid-back energy was a welcome contrast to the tension he¡¯d been carrying since they¡¯d arrived. Maybe Southside High wasn¡¯t going to be as bad as he¡¯d feared.